It happens on almost every production. The final curtain closes, the audience leaves, the tech crew begins to strike the set and most, if not the entire, cast vanishes into thin air. Which, mostly in local or college theatre, leaves behind a small crew responsible for undoing weeks of building, hanging, sewing, etc. If you ever want to find a prime example of animosity between actor and crew, here it is.

Now none of these tech weeks were easy, that I will admit. But are tech weeks ever meant to be easy? Most of the time not. You can only do so much in advance and there are things that you just can’t figure out until you get into the performance space, which was one of the few similarities between the two shows. Neither show could load into the performance space until the week prior to opening.

The use of deaf talent, and hearing actors passing on the roles that have them portraying someone with a cultural background they do not have experience with, is vital when telling stories about deaf culture and in general. Storytelling is vital to the Deaf community and to ignore their contributions and damper the current stunning group of talent would be to the detriment of the theatre community as a whole. 

When on stage or waiting in the wings, it’s business time. But what about backstage in the green room or dressing room? These areas occupy an uncertain space between the world of performing and simply existing as people. Everyone prepares for a show differently, but here are a few general guidelines for establishing a positive green room atmosphere.

So I wanted to do something I've never done before. Something original but also more honest than I've been in the past. I wanted to share the following experience because I believe I'm not the only one who has ever gone through it, and I want people to know how it ends. Spoiler alert: it ends pretty well. The following is what was originally a secret series of blogs that I wrote to document how I dealt with receiving the part in a musical I didn't want. As a disclaimer, I should say first that the following is a process, detailing how my thoughts and feelings change, and that no personal offense should be taken on behalf of those involved. However, I have edited this so that no specifics are mentioned (which means you'll see quite a few 'my character's etc.). I hope this provides supportive, inspiring, or even just interesting reading.

I spent my freshman year after high school in a BA program. I loved the school and the people, but it just wasn’t the right program or intensity for me. I wanted to pursue a BFA but I didn’t know where to begin. Most of my friends used MTCA or similar services as audition help, and I was doing this completely on my own.

Since many friends have come to me this year for help with transferring to another theatre program, specifically for BFA MT programs, I decided to put together this list of some tips/tricks I picked up along the way.

Theatre goers - question for ya, “Why do you care what people wear?”

Let’s set the scene. I was scouring the deep webs of the Theatre Twitterverse at Grand Central Station before my train took off and I lost all cell reception until 33rd St. Right when the 6 train left the station, I stumbled across an article bemoaning the lost sense of propriety, the lack of respect for today’s performers and Broadway’s legacy - all because some audience members wore flip-flops to a show.

Really. Ok.

Adam Da Ros is an award winning music director and is a stage director. Trained at the University of British Columbia, Adam has a diverse range of talents from both the world of opera and musical theatre.

On a day to day he serves as an artistic associate for the prestigious Vancouver Opera Company and is the stage director for Opera Mariposa/Heroic Opera's production of Un ballo in maschera.

A couple of years ago, I had the chance to work on a project with a local news anchor. It involved several meetings with her. What struck me before, during and after these meetings was her behavior. Rather being a polite, gracious and a cooperative colleague, she was rude, constantly late and displayed "diva-ish" behavior. Instead of a local news anchor, it felt like we were working with a world touring singer. I found her behavior both annoying and silly. Because as a local celebrity she might be well known in her own town, but the moment she goes elsewhere, no one knows about her status and no one cares. 

This past weekend, I was fortunate enough to attend the annual Texas Thespians Festival in Dallas, TX. Beyond the sheer size of the program, over 7,000 students, I was blown away by the talent and knowledge they displayed as well. It made me swell with pride that the future generation of theatre performers, designers, directors and writers is in safe hands. However one area had me concerned. 

I had the chance to speak with a number of students whose goal wasn't necessarily to be on stage or behind it, but rather teach it. I was taken aback by the number of students who wanted to become theatre educators. You don't usually find that at a thespian festival.